


Blank Space

by TheSadisticMunchkin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Big Brother Dean, Canon Compliant, Caring John Winchester, Character Death, Dean-Centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Protective Castiel, Protective John Winchester, Sad Dean, Sad Ending, Season/Series 10 Spoilers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSadisticMunchkin/pseuds/TheSadisticMunchkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Soulmate AU where instead of your soulmate's first words to you written on your skin it’s their last words you ever hear them say so you don’t know who your soulmate is until you lose them."</p><p>In a world where only a few select people have soulmates, Dean became aware that he was one of those people when he turned 8 years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blank Space

**Author's Note:**

> I write a lot of fluff. Like… a lot of fluff. I started out as an angst writer. I’m going to bring that back for this fic. 4000 words of pure angst.
> 
> Enjoy :)

            Dean was only 8 when the words appeared on his wrist.

 

            As expected, he panicked. His dad hunted supernatural beings and the odd things that go bump in the night everyday. What if someone was out to get him? What if they’re going to write on Sammy next? Sammy was only 4 years old. He’s not ready to learn about the monsters that daddy hunts for. He’s not ready to see the youthful light die out of his little brother’s eyes at the sight of these words.

 

            So Dean hid them from him. Eventually he decided to hide them from his daddy too. Maybe the monster was out to get daddy. And he can’t let daddy die. Sammy’s too young. He started to wear long sleeved shirts and jackets like daddy. He pretended not to be bothered by the sun’s rays beating on to his back. He pretended that the heat wasn’t bothering him and you can imagine Dean’s relief when the winter months came.

 

            But John Winchester wasn’t that stupid.

 

            He noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed how Dean’s face would scrunch up slightly when he sees the first morning rays of sunshine. He noticed how even before bedtime, Dean chose to wear a long sleeved pajama top rather than his preferred black shirt. He noticed how his eldest son would absentmindedly scratch at his covered wrist when he thought he wasn’t looking. He noticed how much more relaxed he was when November rolled by.

 

            It took John only two days later to figure out what Dean was hiding and it took him having to wait outside of the bathroom to see it. Dean thought he was out to buy food but what he didn’t know is that he arrived earlier. He shushed Sam’s usual enthusiastic greeting with a finger to his lips and his younger son mimicked the gesture with a gummy smile. When he was sure Sammy wasn’t going to make a sound, he crept closer to the bathroom door.

 

            Dean was humming an unidentifiable rock song under his breath when he finally walked out the door. John stepped in front of him and suddenly the eight year old looked even younger with his wide green eyes and damp blond hair stuck to his forehead. He looked up at his father with an audible gulp. His right hand was holding the towel that was rubbing the back of his head.

 

            His right wrist contained the words he was too afraid to show him.

 

            John knew exactly what those words were. The absolute fear in Dean’s eyes had him dropping to his knees in front of his boy, his sweet, not so innocent boy who had to grow up too quickly. He slowly pried Dean’s fingers off of the towel and threw it over his shoulder. Dean’s tears finally fell when John Winchester opened up his arms for a hug. Dean immediately fell into his father’s arms with a chocked sound coming from his throat.

 

            Dean buried his head on the towel-clad shoulder of his daddy and let his tears fall freely down his freckled face. John’s strong arms held him in place as he slid down to the floor, feeling his legs give out beneath him. He was so scared. He didn’t know what these words mean. If his father would stoop down and let himself comfort him then that was a sign to Dean that it wasn’t anything good.

 

            His Daddy explained that he was special. Very few people have a soulmate designed especially for him to love. John showed him the words tattooed on his wrist and Dean suddenly didn’t feel so scared anymore. But something was off with the words that were on his daddy’s wrist. He knew those words. He heard them faintly on the night that his mother was stuck to the nursery ceiling 4 years ago.

 

            His Daddy explained that they were her last words.

 

            Dean’s fear then hit him again full force. Last words. Those were her mommy’s last words to his daddy before she died. Last words. Dean brought up his shaking hand and looked at the last words that his soulmate would say to him. His eyes filled with tears again as he read it over and over again. Why did it have to be these words? Before he could dwell on them, John’s large hands covered his wrist and he looked up at his daddy.

 

            “I’m scared, daddy.” And he fell right back into John’s arms and started crying even more. He faintly registered Sammy’s small form pushing up against him in his own attempt of a hug. Sammy doesn’t understand this yet. Heck, even Dean can’t fully comprehend it. So Dean allowed himself to cry and be held by the two people he cared about the most. When he finally let go, Sam was looking up at him with big brown eyes and a watery smile.

 

            “I love you, Dean!”

 

            It was Sammy’s way of saying “ _You’ll be alright.”_

“I love you too, Sammy.” _I hope I’ll be._

* * *

            Dean was 16 when he thought he found his soulmate.

 

            Her name was Robin and her hair smelled like roses and orange marmalade. Her lips tasted like sweet summer strawberries. Her hands fit so perfectly with his. Her eyes could bear into his soul and he would allow her to look for as long as she wanted. He watched the sunset on the porch with her everyday at 6pm with his arms wrapped around her slender waist.

 

            Two months didn’t feel like enough time with her. Two months felt like seconds in the fleeting life he lived as a hunter. But for two months she made him feel like nothing else mattered but them. Nothing mattered but her sweet voice echoing through the house at 4pm every Saturday. Nothing mattered but her calloused hand guiding his own down the fret board. He never really learned how to play a full song because he was too focused on her.

 

            He was too focused on how perfectly his hand fit in hers as they crooned out an old country song.

 

            Dean knew what love was. And he was pretty sure he was in love with her. He saw how his dad and mom interacted before even when he was a little kid, he understood love through their eyes. The soft caresses. The sweet good morning kisses. The feather light touches on his skin that left him feeling like he was struck by lighting with each touch. He wanted that and so much more with her.

 

            But then he had to go and Dean was afraid that he’d hear the words written on his wrist coming from her lips. They never came. The last words he heard her say was “I can’t wait to dance with you at prom!” and those weren’t the words on his wrist. They didn’t even come close.

 

            Even when he came back years later, the last words he heard from her were not the ones on his wrist. And Dean thought maybe Robin wasn’t his soulmate after all.

* * *

            Dean was 24 when he thought Cassie was the one.

 

            He spent only days with her and already he felt like he was falling hard. Her chocolate brown eyes bore kindness he hasn’t seen in years. Her beautiful soft skin always rubbed deliciously against his own. Her touches left a trail of passionate fire and her kisses were nothing less than divine. When he held her in his arms, it felt right. When he kissed her, it felt right.

 

            Everything about her felt so right.

 

            Dean was old enough to carefully pick the people he falls in love with. He was a hunter. He was a man who is in one state for a day and never goes back. So far, he hasn’t met anyone quite like Cassie. Cassie was the ray of sunlight on a dark gloomy day. She was the four leaf clover you find when you feel you’re out of luck. She was the moon and the stars at night because she shines so bright when she smiles.

 

            When Dean was sure that he loved her, he told her about him. He knew his dad’s rules about never disclosing who they really were until they were in imminent danger. But this was Cassie. She understands him better than anyone he’s ever met. So he told her everything. From the monsters they’ve faced and the tallest tales he’s ever lived, he told her all of them. The vampires, the kitsune, the werewolves, he told her about them.

 

            Then she said the words “You’re crazy!” and he felt his heart split in two. He felt it break even further as she ran away from him, never looking back. If she did turn back, she would have seen the broken man she left behind. The man, who gave his entire heart and story to, left standing in the dust. He was an empty shell when he met up with his father outside of the state, barely holding on as he ran her last words through his mind.

 

            _“You’re crazy!”_

 

            He looked at his wrist for the first time in years.

 

            Thankfully, those weren’t the words.

* * *

            Dean was 29 when he slammed a knife into the one who brought him out of hell.

 

            “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

 

            What a way to make a first impression.

 

            He was tall. Not as tall as him though. His hair was mused up in that ‘just got out of bed’ kind of style. And his eyes were like the ocean on a hot summer’s day, _endlessly bright and blue_. Though his expression was virtually neutral, his eyes spoke a thousand different languages. He bets that he does speak a thousand languages, some of them probably from a different world entirely.

 

            Dean found himself lost in the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly liked he gargled a bunch of rocks before breakfast. The voice that held so much authority and confidence that it almost made Dean’s knees go weak. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” He said with a head tilt that he couldn’t help but find strangely endearing.

 

            He said a joke or a snarky comment. Dean wasn’t quite sure at this point what he said exactly but for some strange reason, the little hint of a smile that the angel gave him made it worth it. Was he worth saving? This little guy seems to think so. This Castiel, gosh even his name sounds ridiculous, thinks he is worthy to be saved.

 

            The question is, will he be able to save him in time?

* * *

            Dean was 32 when he realized he was in love with Castiel.

 

            He was in another one of those shitty motel rooms, clutching tightly on to a tan piece of fabric. He looked at the wall with a blank expression but his head was conveying a million different emotions that always pointed back to one. _Love_. The man who lost his powers, gained them back, hunted, rebelled and believed in him for years. The angel who decided to play God with a demon in his pocket…

 

            Walked into a lake and died, protecting him.

 

            His trench coat – _“Actually it’s an over coat.”_ – was still a little damp and he hasn’t unfolded it since that day. He’s kept in the trunk. Why? Cas was dead. Never coming back. God brought him back once but who’s to say he would ever do it again? Was he hoping that Cas would suddenly pop up behind him in the impala when he’s driving to the convenience store and say “Hello, Dean.” in that deep goddamn voice of his?

 

            What was he waiting for?

 

            He finally unfolded the trench coat with shaking hands, shakier hands than what he will admit. The fabric felt course and traces of dirt and blood stained its surface. He suddenly felt his feet carry him to the bathroom. The hot water started running so he put Cas’ coat underneath the stream and started scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing.

 

            He was scrubbing even after his knuckles felt sore. He was scrubbing all the dirt and blood off of the coat as if his life depended on it. He was scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, the dirtied water flowing around his feet. When he wasn’t satisfied with how the tap water was running, he turned on the shower, stepped into the shower area and started scrubbing again.

 

            It took him a total of 3 hours to perfectly scrub off all the stains on the trench coat. His entire body was wet with not only water but also sweat. The shower rained down his back, soaking his flannel shirt, as he examined the entire coat to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Satisfied with the results after ten minutes of checking, he turned the shower off and squeezed most of the water out of the coat.

 

            He didn’t feel the tears forming in his eyes when he recognized the clean coat in his hands again. He didn’t register the chocked noise coming out of his throat as he held it to his chest. He didn’t hear Sam’s knocking on the door as he slid down the shower wall with the tan coat pressed as close to his heart as possible. “You can’t be gone, Cas.” was the closest statement he had to an “ _I love you_.”

 

            And he hates that he has fallen in love again. He hates that it had to be _Cas_. He hates that he’s fallen in love with the angel who looked at him like he put the sun, moon and stars up in the sky by himself and said he was worth saving.

 

            The thing that got him was that he didn’t want anyone else to save him but Cas.

 

            “Dean?” _Tell me you’re okay._

“S-Sammy?” _I’m really not_

 

            “I love you, okay? We’ll get through this.” _You’ll be fine. I’m here for you._

“I love you too, Sammy. I love you too.” _How long is it going to take until I’ll be fine?_

* * *

            Dean was 33 when the clanging of the angel blade on the floor reached his ears.

 

            His vision became clear and his aching muscles didn’t hurt anymore. Castiel was standing above him with the most pained expression on his face. He was being controlled to do this. He broke out of control for _him_. He said sorry but what was he sorry for? Cas was okay. That was all that mattered to Dean. He didn’t mean to be controlled. He didn’t mean to hurt him.

 

            One look in his angel’s eyes told him exactly why he was sorry.

 

            Ever since they met, he was telling him how he was worth saving. He has always proved how much he will sacrifice to save Dean. He has literally been killed several times to save him and resurrected several more times to continue saving him. He felt like he has failed in his self-induced mission: _to save the righteous man_. To Castiel, how is beating him to a bloody pulp considered saving him?

 

            But Dean was willing to forgive. He always forgives Cas even with the biggest faults he’s done. Even when he went mad with power and sacrificed himself in that lake, Bobby mentioned how he lost the best friend he has ever had. Bobby knew how much Cas meant to him and he could never stay mad at the guy for more than 2 days.

 

            Maybe it also had to do with being hopelessly in love with him.

 

            Before he could fully comprehend what Castiel said to him in the crypt, he flew away. He left him there with his thoughts and mixed feelings all because he wants to save him. He left because he didn’t want to hurt Dean any further but he didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. He didn’t have the chance to tell him.

 

            _“I need you.”_ was the closest statement he ever had to _“I love you.”_ but it still wasn’t enough for him to stay.

* * *

            Dean was 35 when Charlie pushed him to finally say it.

 

            It was the morning after the Styne incident and the entire family – huh, family – was sitting at the table for breakfast. Charlie was talking a mile a minute to Cas about the latest Doctor Who episode. Sam was simultaneously eating his pancakes while browsing through his laptop, never noticing the slight dribble of syrup down the side of his mouth. Dean took this opportunity to study Cas from across the table.

 

            With his increased knowledge on pop culture, he was able to engage with Charlie on the topic of aliens with blue boxes and even gave helpful comments. His smile was genuine as he watched Charlie’s eyes light up with one of his insights. His gaze never wavered as he listened to her with rapt attention. Dean felt like he was falling in love all over again as Cas’ laughter rang like a bell in the air.

 

            He didn’t even try to hide the fond smile that crept up his lips every time Cas smiled too. He was in so deep that even he doesn’t notice it. Charlie did though. She notices everything. She took only one look at Dean and the angel and she wouldn’t stop smiling like an idiot throughout breakfast afterwards. Thankfully, Cas remained entirely oblivious to what was brewing in her head.

 

            She came up beside Dean while he was washing the dishes and asked him right away what was his deal with Cas. Dean momentarily stiffened but then he realized this was Charlie. He could never really keep anything from her for too long. He took one look at her, smiling encouragingly up at him, before he launched into his story. The story she already knew from the books but from his personal ride with his emotions.

 

            Admittedly it was a rollercoaster at the start but somewhere in the end, which was right now, he started to enjoy the ride a little bit more. “So you love him?”

 

            “Yeah. I do.” _More than I thought._

 

            “Why don’t you tell him?” _He obviously loves you back._

“Never crossed my mind.” _Of course it did. It crossed my mind a million times._

“What’s stopping you?” _Now is as good a time as any!_

“A lot of things.” _I’m afraid of when the end will come._

Charlie still looked unconvinced but when she caught him absentmindedly stroking his right wrist, she knew. She never got the pressure of a soulmate, thank God, but she always felt that Dean deserved one. He deserved somebody to love him, designed specifically to love him because she’s never met anyone more deserving. She didn’t press on what the words were. She didn’t even tug on the sleeve to take a peak.

 

            All she did was rest her palm face down on where she thinks the words are on his wrist. She looked up at him and gave him the most reassuring smile she could muster. “All good things do come to an end someday Dean but… you might as well start experiencing the good things now.” She removed her hand from his wrist and placed it on his cheek. He closed his eyes briefly at her caring touch, it reminded him so much of his mother.

 

            “We all know you deserve some good things.”

 

            After the dishes were done, he knocked on the door of Cas’ room.

* * *

            The darkness… it was everywhere.

 

            Not only was it spreading to the streets and into the sky, the cold chill was unmistakable. He felt the darkness creeping up his back, through his veins and into his head. It wasn’t just a sheet of black smoke like what he was used to seeing when demons are exorcised. No. The darkness wasn’t just a physical form, sucking light out of its way as if it was a disease and they were the cure. The darkness was the worst feeling one could receive.

 

            The darkness was when your stomach drops as you see a dear friend all bloodied up in a bathtub. The darkness was when you see your boyfriend, your life, and your soulmate, beat up to a bloody mess on the floor by your own hands. The darkness was seeing everything that made you who you are and leaving it behind. He would give anything never to feel something like that again.

 

            But he knew that’s not how his life worked.

 

            So he did the best thing he could do: drive. He drove as far away as he could from the chasing darkness behind him. He drove on the instructions Sam was giving him to the safe house where Cas is supposed to be with Rowena. Cas. His heart drops at just the thought that his soulmate, his angel, his everything was somewhere without him. But there was a reason that he wanted to leave, be shot into some distant planet by Death and never return.

 

            It was because he wasn’t ready to face the end.

 

            He’s felt his wrist itch more than normal. He knew today was the day. He didn’t want to face it. Not yet. He just got Cas. He just got used to curling up beside him in bed when he sleeps. The angel doesn’t sleep but sometimes he feels tattered wings wrap around him when Cas thinks he doesn’t notice. He just got used to kissing him on the neck good morning and kissing him on the lips goodnight.

 

            Besides, this wasn’t the first time Dean tempted fate. Fate was an asshole in his book and all it ever wanted to do was screw him up. Ever since he was a little kid. Hell, even before he was born fate was never in his favor. So who could blame him for being selfish for just this once? He didn’t want to lose the one other thing in his life that has felt absolutely _right_.

 

            He’d rather watch the stars burn on a distant planet than lose Cas forever.

 

            “Dean…” _We’ll get through this. We always do._

“Let’s just get to Cas.” _I know._

Sam didn’t want to pry into Dean’s thoughts anymore. So he sat back in his seat, heart pounding and mind racing as Dean drove as fast as he could to the safe house. When they finally arrived, Dean barely turned the engine off before he ran out and kicked the door open. Red. All he saw was red. Red on the walls like the sigils painted on the windows. Red on the table like the blood spilling from a stranger’s head…

 

            Red on the floor as his whole world crashes down. There he was, his life, his love, and his soulmate in a fetal position on the floor. _Red. Red. Red_. The color was in his eyes and his mouth and splattered all over the tan trench coat. Red wasn’t supposed to be there. It was supposed to stay tan and only tan. He saw black when he looked up. The king of hell stood over his everything with Red in his eyes.

 

            “Dean…” Crowley said. _I had to defend myself._

“Dean…” Sammy said. _I’m so sorry._

“Dean…” Castiel said. _Please hold me._

So hold him he did. He dropped to his knees, scrambling to his soulmate with every fiber of his being. He carefully placed his head on his lap, stroking the blood-matted hair with a shaking hand. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He tried to whisper but all that came out was a sob. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. His wrist was practically on fire as he held Cas in his arms.

 

            _Don’t say it._

 

            “Dean…” _Don’t you dare fucking say it, Cas._

“The mark is gone.” He didn’t say it yet.

 

            “Y-Yeah Cas. It’s gone.” _You don’t have to worry about it anymore_

 

            “I’m glad.” _You deserve something good._

“Me too.” _I love you._

 

            Silence enveloped them and new tears formed in Dean’s eyes. The king of hell and his brother stood off to the side, watching but never interfering. They knew. They knew like dad knew when he was eight. They knew like Robin did when he was 16. They knew like Cassie did when they were 24. They knew that this was a time that they needed alone but they had to stay put in case anything gets out of control.

 

            And they were right to stay as the light started dying in Cas’ eyes. “Baby, please stay with me. W-we still got a lot to do.” Dean said, voice thick with tears. He shifted his position to hold Cas close to his chest. The angel didn’t say anything. It was strange that Dean felt just the slightest bit of hope in his soulmate’s silence. Maybe this wasn’t the end. Maybe he’ll come back again. He always does. _Always…_

 

            But then words finally escaped Castiel’s paling lips; Dean felt his heartbreak harder and faster than it ever did before. It hurt more than the time he left Robin. It filled him with more dread than it did the time Cassie didn’t believe him when he told the truth. He felt his soul crying out and the words on his wrist burn like it was on fire.

 

            The traces of Cas’ tattered wings lined the floor in ashes and dust. His body fell limp against his chest but the grief and anger he felt weighed far heavier. _He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone_. He had to repeat it in his head because this time he knew Cas wasn’t going to come back. He knew because he said it. He fucking said it. He brought up his right hand, pulling down his sleeve as the words etched into his skin started fading away.

 

            He didn’t need a reminder anymore of what the words would be. Castiel already said it.

 

            Before it faded into a blank space, he read the words once again. He didn’t read it in his voice or Robin’s or Cassie’s like before. He heard it in his head in the deepest, sweetest voice that he was already starting to miss:

 

            _“I fell for you in more ways than one.”_

Then the words were gone.

 

            Dean was 35 when he lost his soulmate forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you okay?
> 
> Do you need some tea?
> 
> A blanket?


End file.
